


Working out the kinks

by almostdefinitelydying



Category: The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), The Expanse, post Churn, pre Leviathan Wakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 08:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12128460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostdefinitelydying/pseuds/almostdefinitelydying
Summary: After clawing his way out of Earth's gravity well, Amos spends a few years on the run from his own traumas. Along the way he meets Ilya and gets his first glimpse of what family and even love can look like.





	1. "Run"

**Author's Note:**

> this is an AU that takes place right after the Churn novella and prior to Amos meeting Naomi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: implied child sexual assault  
> tw: murder

It had been a few years since he made his way up the well to Luna. It had all been very disorienting. The first couple of years his instincts just told him "RUN", and taking any job he could get he found himself further and further into the black void of space. Deep into the belt. He tried to keep away from sexwork, even though it was decent money. But that wasn't what he had clawed his way up the well for. Fresh starts need new lines of work. At least that's what he figured. As it turned out he had a mind for machines. Their cold logic spoke to him on a level he wasn't quite able to put into words. They made sense in a way people never had.

 

He was working as a fledgling mechanic when he met Illya, on an old rustbucket, named The Bucket, that made its money ferrying old tech and machine parts between the ports in the outer rim of the belt.

 

The crew of the Bucket was small, only six people. Their captain, Tasha, was a tall, dark skinned woman from Ceres. Her skin was so dark it looked almost blue, and she had piercing blue eyes and a white mohawk made out of the most gorgeous dreadlocks Amos had ever seen. She stood at least a foot taller than him, and liked to joke about how Amos was their “smol mechanic”, seeing as he was the only earther on the roster. Their pilot, Elena, and consequently also the captain's wife, was a slightly shorter woman, with creamy white skin, freckles and long, curly red hair that she kept in a ponytail at all times. She made up for her shorter stance by being built like a **house**. With her belter height, she was roughly the same size as Amos, only taller. _I wouldn’t bet on winning a close quarter fight against HER_ , Amos thought to himself and smiled a little bit. He knew size wasn’t ever a real predictor in a physical fight, but this woman looked like she’d built the Bucket all by herself. _Capable. Is the word I’m looking for,_ he mused.

 

Illya is what passes for "chief engineer" this far out in the belt. He was tall, like the others, with a scruffy beard, unkempt shoulder length brown hair and steel grey eyes. From what Amos had observed over the past few years you could get easily get a fancy title like "chief engineer” if you were a good enough bullshitter. This seemed to be the case with Illya, but there was also something else about him. An air of.. something. Amos couldn't quite put his finger on it. Not that it mattered, he usually didn't talk much to the other crew. He never really had, in all the job's he'd had so far. "Point and Click Mechanic" was what the brainier belters used to call him, and it suited him just fine.

They also have a couple of what passed for commandos out here in the outer rim. Your typical rough looking young men with a weapon fixation. At some point they had given their names, but Amos' mind had already filed them under "cannon fodder" and promptly decided not to remember anything else.

 

The Bucket, aptly named Amos thought, was shaped like a bucket. Wide, round with a flat nose and an equally flat ass. Clearly just slapped together from parts of other ships and whatever they had access to at the time. The engine couldn't even pull off more than a couple of G's. A typical belter ship. This also suited him well. He could never really figure out why, it just did. He had a little nook down in the engine room / machine shop (everything on the bucket doubled as something else too) at the base of the ship. Next to the engine room was the head and a couple of showers, mostly because having the water tanks close to the engine compartment had made the most sense at the time of construction. Plus a small cargo area with its own airlock.

The deck above had crew quarters and a small galley. Nothing fancy, but enough space for a few double “rooms” for bunks and a little kitchen with a coffee machine nicknamed “Old Sparky”, for its tendency to short out and give you a little shock if you didn't hit the right combination of buttons. At the top was the bridge, the ops center (basically the same thing in a ship this small), and the main airlock for the crew.

 

 

 

Amos was in the middle of patching up a coolant tube, that had sprung a leak for the fifth time this week, when he heard the deck hatch close with a thump, and a loud sigh. With an arm still inside the access panel, Amos stretched and looked up over the side of the engine.

Illya was standing leaned towards the door, resting his head on the cool metal of the deck hatch, one arm over his head.

"Anything wrong there 'chief'?" Amos asked with a bit of a bite at the last word. Not that he'd ever come close to being obviously passive aggressive, that required actual intent. The chief just kinda rubbed him the wrong way.

"Fine. It's.. fine." Illya replied without turning around. "Do you ever have those days where it feels like your skin is too tight?" Illya mutters, clearly rhetorical.

"Actually, yeah.." Amos said, and Illya finally turns around.

"I didn't really.. what? You do?"

"Yeah.. dunno what you're running from out here, but I figure the reason doesn't matter so much as the actual running." Amos said and shrugs with his one free arm. "And these longer treks between ports ironically makes it feel a lot more like standing still. Right?"

"Yeah.." Illya said and looked perplexed at the big mechanic. After four months together on the bucket he's only heard the mechanic speak twice. There's usually just a bit of grunting affirmatively and pointing or gesturing. This sudden insight was unexpected to say the least.

"How..?" Illya stuttered after a moment's pause.

Amos shrugged with his one free hand again, turned his gaze down to the access panel on the side of the engine and continues to work. "Some patterns seem to repeat themselves." he said while pinching off the coolant tube and skillfully apply a layer of sealing tape.

"Would it be okay if I just hung around in here for a little bit?" Illya asked as he watched Amos work. "The rest of the crew seem a bit annoyed by my pacing.." he said in a low voice and almost slaps himself in the face when he realises it must be just as annoying to the antisocial mechanic.

"Sure.. I don't mind." Amos said from behind the engine and there's no trace of either annoyance or duplicity in his voice.

Illya sighs in relief, and is grateful for Amos’ directness. "Cool." he said and shuffled over to where Amos is working.

"Anything you need help with?

 

* * *

 

 

Amos acclimated quite quickly to having Illya around down in the bowels of the ship. He kept quiet and to himself unless there was something specific he needed help with. Amos appreciated the unimposing company more than he'd imagined he would. Or maybe he just found Illya less annoying than previously assumed. It was hard to tell, and he didn't bother trying to make sense of it. As with most things in his life it was easily shoved aside unless immediately important. And for now there was a pleasant sort of calm in having someone else around. He shrugged to himself without being aware of it and almost jumped out of his own skin when Illya said "What?" over his shoulder.

Amos' grumbled and spat the words out in reply. “Startling me is a good way to get yourself killed chief.”

Ilya took half a step back and smiled sheepishly.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you.. it just looked like you were wondering about something. You shrugged..”

Suddenly very self conscious, Amos felt his face become hot. He had been genuinely startled at Ilya's comment. He had forgotten he was even in the room. _Goddamn rookie mistake son_ , he thought to himself, the embarrassment turning into anger. He had let his guard down.

“Oh, that..” his voice was perfectly flat, not revealing any of his inner turmoil. “I was just thinking about something, and it kinda turned into a conversation in my head.. if that makes sense.”

He glanced up at Ilya, who was now visibly more relaxed, and even smiling a little. _Damn he was handsome when he smiled._

_Had he just thought that??_

Amos raised an eyebrow, completely out of context in the now actual conversation he found himself in. Ilya, misreading it completely, took it as a sign of interest.

“So..” Ilya asked, taking a step closer again and leaning up against the wall near Amos. “What was the conversation in your head about?”

“Uhm…” Amos was completely flustered. _For the love of God man, don't start stammering!_ he thought to himself and had to clear his throat. As much for time as anything else.

“Well..” he began, trying to remember what people usually say in these types of situations. “Just.. about how it’s… Nice. To have company.” he muttered.

Ilya smiled, disarmingly, and Amos could feel his ears burn. Was he blushing? He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat again. Yeah, definitely blushing.

 

A claxon broke the tension and the emergency lights switched to red. The engine had stalled. Gravity disappeared, and suddenly they were floating in the middle of the room. They had both been standing just out of reach of any practical purchase when the gravity shifted, but at the rate they were suddenly spinning it was just as well to  float.The floor was becoming the wall was becoming the ceiling, and continued on and on like that. Static crackled over the comms, then Tasha's voice. “Guys? It looks like the engine got the hiccups again. We're spinning a bit, but I'm gonna see if I can coax her back online.” Everything went dark for a moment, then roared back to life as the engine restarted.

The crash couches on the Bucket couldn't really be called couches at all. More like old mattresses scavenged from old first generation ships, with handlebars to keep yourself in place. Regardless, they hadn't even tried to reach them when the engine cut out, so the big mechanic now found himself falling down the floor, which was now the wall, towards Ilya and the crash couch. Ilya hit the couch first, on his back, and Amos fell right on top of him, sandwiching him on the new floor with a groan. Luckily the jump back into operational speed hadn't pulled more than 2g and Amos, having fallen forward have managed to brace himself and tilt his head to Ilya's left, avoided crushing their heads together. Still. Amos was a big dude, height notwithstanding, it had felt like being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste under the boot of a giant. The air left their lungs like crap from a festival porta-potty hit by a wrecking ball.

 

After a few seconds, when the ship, gravity and the direction of up righted itself, Amos levered himself up from over Ilya and grunted. "Sorry about that.. wasn't fast enough."

Ilya took a deep breath and whispered "I'm just glad you missed my head" and gave Amos a little wink.

"Yeah.." Amos said flatly and it seemed the little flirtatious comment had gone straight over his head. "Wouldn't be good to lose both mechanics at once." he muttered and got to his feet.

"That wasn't what I.. yeah.. that would be bad." Ilya said with obvious disappointment in his voice, but again it seemed to go straight over Amos' head.

_This flirting is going absolutely nowhere_ , Ilya thought, annoyed.

"Better check nothing got fucked.." Amos said matter of factly and reached out a hand to help Ilya off the floor. The men clasped hands and Ilya couldn't help thinking; _Well I certainly haven't been in a while_ , and had to concentrate to not chuckle out loud.

 

They went back to work, but Amos felt jittery. _The fall hadn't been that dramatic, so why was he anxious?_ Having someone around all the time was confusing. But why was it confusing? Maybe it was all the implied communication protocols. He had never been particularly great at those. You could never really tell with people. They often said one thing and meant another. Especially people who seem nice on the surface. He knew all too well how the friendliest faces were usually attached to monsters. He tensed up again, and glanced over at Ilya, working on rewiring the access panel to the fuel pump. The man seemed perfectly harmless. Seemed . It's dangerous to make assumptions, he reminded himself. But there was definitely something about him that made Amos curious.

 

“So..” he started, cautiously, trying to sound casual. “How'd you end up in this outfit anyway?”

Ilya frowned and wrinkled his nose. _Goddamn that's cute_ , Amos caught himself thinking.

“It's a long story..” Ilya said and tried to shrug it off with one hand.

“Try me.” Amos said, undeterred. _Better to keep the conversation on him and his story. At least then I won't have to talk about my own,_ Amos thought and frowned a little himself.

“Well.. you already figured out I was running from something.” Ilya began. “I killed someone on Ceres.” he said flatly and stared Amos right in the eyes.

_Is he trying to get a reaction out of me?_ Amos wondered. He held Ilya's stare and just said; “I'm guessing you had a good reason.” More a statement than a question.

“I did actually.” Ilya continued and visibly relaxed a little bit, leaning back against the wall of the engine room.

_Power play, obviously,_ Amos mused.

“Tasha's brother has a kid on Ceres..” Ilya began explaining.

Amos stiffened and was unable to hide it. Ilya didn't seem to notice. _This might have been a bad call, son.._

“I've been sort of an uncle to his kid for years now. And one day, were just hanging out at their place, watching vids and having dinner. Tasha and her brother get a call to go pick something up for some local coyo working for the OPA. They leave, and I babysit, all pretty normal stuff right?” He says, tone still casual.

Amos tightens his grip on the wrench he's been holding all along.

“So, this little kid, only 7 years old. She's been sitting on the couch quiet as a mouse all evening. And I think to myself that, actually, she's been quiet a lot lately. More so than usual. So I go sit down on the couch too, and I ask her how she's doing. You know, if someone's bugging her at school or something.” Ilya says and gestures with his hands out toward nothing in particular.

Amos keeps his grip on the wrench and stands perfectly still. _This will go one of two ways._

“And the kid is quiet for a long time, but I figure it's best not to rush her. Maybe finding the words are hard, ya know?” Ilya said.

“Then she whispers to me, and I remember having to put the vids on mute to hear anything. She says one of her teachers is mean to her. So I ask, how do you mean he's mean? And she looks up at me, and her eyes man.. it's like they're hollow.” Ilya shivered and folded his arms across his chest. Like it's physically painful to recall.

Amos sighs and relaxes his vice-like grip on the wrench.

Ilya's voice breaks as he continues. “She says he's been making her.. do stuff. Grown up stuff. Her words..” His face contorts in a grimace.

“And saying shit like he's gonna take her away from her dad if she tells him anything.” He pauses, and seems to be lost in his thoughts for a moment.

Amos puts the wrench down on the closest bench, and quietly walks over to him and leans up against the wall next to Ilya. He doesn't say anything. He knows he doesn't need to.

Ilya picks up his thread and continues.

“So I tell the kid it's never gonna happen again. He's never gonna touch her again.”

Amos just nods.

They both stare at the floor. As if direct eye contact would somehow disrespect the memories being articulated.

“I cornered him the day after. Making sure the kid wasn't in school that day.. the dude starts babbling about how she made him do it. Spouting all kinds of nonsense.” Ilya said and threw his arms up in frustration.

“And I just lost it, man.. I grabbed him by the neck, dragged him off down a hallway and just.. beat him to death with my bare hands.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Didn't really think it through, you know?” he said with a sad chuckle and glanced over at Amos.

Amos gives him a crooked half smile in return. Another long moment stretches out while they stand, backs up against the wall, looking at the same spot on the floor.

“I threw him in the nearest recycler and snuck home to clean up. Figured I should tell Tasha and her brother about what happened. Was fully prepared to hightail it outta there solo, but.. as it turns out, Tasha wouldn't have it.” he says with a twinge of sorrow around the warm tone of his words.

He threw his hands up again, in an attempt at lightening the mood this time, and looked Amos square in the face.

“How was I supposed to know some people see that kind of action as heroic?!” but his tone drops into sorrow again as he continues. “I just did what needed to be done, man. That guy. He needed to be dead, for ever having touched a kid..” and his head droops.

“Yeah he did.” Amos said, in a low voice, and put a hand on Ilya's neck. Patting the other man gently on the cheek, he says it again. “Yeah he did.”


	2. Zero - NSFW in 2.3 seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things heat up down in the engine room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXPLICIT NSFW KINK with an undertone of dub-con and 2/10 safety: you have been warned

The next few days were spent in silence. Not awkward, per se, but neither Amos or Ilya knew how to start a conversation that wasn't too intense or too casual.

Amos wondered how it had all happened the way that it did. Zero to full life story in less time than it took to do a flip and burn. He did feel more comfortable around Ilya now though. Knowing that the man was a bit like himself.  
A murderer, but for the right reasons. _Does that make him a monster too, or me less of one?_ he wondered. He shrugged at the thought and kept working.

Their current run had taken them from Ceres station out towards Europa. Normally not the longest route, but on the Bucket travel time was slow. Days were spent mostly holding her together. Every day something new would break down or spring a leak. Amos continued to marvel at them still being able to fly. _Makes a good case for having two mechanics on the roster tho’_. he mused.

As time passed they still didn't talk much, but the silence grew more comfortable.

Amos did however find himself slightly distracted. Ilya had taken to working with the top of his jumpsuit rolled down and tied around his waist.  
The man was exquisitely fit. Long, defined muscles, decorated with belter tattoos and a variety of small scars. His hair often held back in a small ponytail so a few locks of hair framed his rugged face perfectly.  
_Stop staring man!_ Amos chastised himself, and directed his gaze away from Ilya.

“You're blushing.” Ilya said casually from behind the intake valve he was working on.  
Amos would have jumped if they actually had any gravity. The Bucket was having one of her “hiccups” again, so they'd have to shut down the reactor to do repairs.  
Amos floated over by the diagnostic monitor and felt his ears become red.  
“No I'm not.” he tried, but regretted the attempt the same instant the words had left his lips. His ears became even more red.  
He sighed and rested his forehead against the nearest bulkhead. Cold metal soothing and distracting him.  
“Yeah, you are. Anything particular on your mind there earther?” Ilya snickered.  
Amos cleared his throat.  
“It's nothing.. get back to work.” Amos spit weakly back at him. Ilya just snickered and let it go, waving a hand at him.

Ilya had noticed the not so subtle change in Amos’ behaviour, and made a bit of a game for himself out of seeing how directly he could flirt before the big man took the hint. As it turned out; VERY directly. _The man is completely oblivious to hints_ , Ilya thought and frowned.  
The chemistry was unmistakable though. He'd noticed Amos’ gaze lingering a few seconds too long from time to time. And how his ears turned almost crimson when Ilya rolled down the top half of his jumpsuit.  
_Like what you see, eh, welwala? If we're stuck on this tin can much longer I might have to show you how real belters do things_ , he thought, and smirked.

-

Amos was sitting on the deck, back to the outer bulkhead, taking a break after a particularly exhausting bit of repairs. Some of the wiring between the machine shop and the bridge had short circuited, and both he and Ilya had to shut down all power and crawl in between the bulkheads to draw new lines of cables all three decks up to the bridge.  
Closing his eyes, Amos rested his head against the cold steel wall. It felt good against his warm skin. He'd rolled down the top half of his jumpsuit and was covered in sweat and grease, or whatever it is that had found its way in between the hulls of this flying junkyard.

"You know what I love to do after a claustrophobic shift like that?" Ilya asked casually, walking over to Amos.  
"What's that?" Amos asked back absentmindedly, still with his eyes closed.  
"Work out some of the excess tension." He said as he crouched down, straddling Amos, and gripping the big man's throat with one hand. Amos' eyes opened wide in surprise, and breath caught in his throat as the similarly half naked belter suddenly had him pinned against the wall, smiling slyly, resting his other hand on the cold steel of the bulkhead.  
"You don't seem to be very good at picking up hints so I figured I'd go for the more direct approach." Ilya said in a low voice and grinned.

Amos was dumbfounded. On the list of things he expected when interacting with other people, this was pretty far from the top tier. Sure, there had been something. Attraction maybe? He had no real idea what attraction felt like outside basic physiological mechanisms.  
Time was frozen. Why wasn't he reacting? He felt both inside and outside himself at the same time. If anyone else had grabbed him by the throat like this they'd already have their face halfway through the nearest bulkhead. Why was this different? What was this strange sensation? This.. surrendering.  
He felt Ilya's hot breath on his face, and the strong grip of the man's hand around his neck. He had reached a hand up to grip Ilya's arm, but stopped and just held his hand on the other man's long, defined arm.  
Normally, having someone so close would trigger any number of automatic reflexes to gain control of the situation, but for some reason the grip of Ilya's fingers, squeezing tighter, circumvented all of them.  
But why? And why didn't he want to resist?

He took a deep breath and shuddered. He could smell Ilya's skin, so close against his own. It smelled like engine grease and sweat. He shuddered again, and Ilya's grin widened.  
"That's what I was getting at.." Ilya whispered and leaned in for a kiss.  
They kissed deeply, hungrily, with a passion Amos hadn't ever felt before. He could feel Ilya's throbbing dick under the man's jumpsuit as he was slowly moving his hips back and forth on Amos' lap. Amos could feel himself harden under his own jumpsuit, and he let out a low groan.

Amos' mind swam. It felt good. Why did it feel so good? He had been with men before, but this was different somehow. Even the force in which Ilya had grabbed him. It hadn't felt threatening. Not really. Maybe that was it? Why hadn't it though? They hardly knew each other. Even after four months on the Bucket, and weeks of both awkward and not so awkward silence working side by side.

Ilya released the grip on his neck, turned Amos' head to one side and licked him from the collar bone, up the side of his neck, and playfully bit Amos' earlobe. Amos inhaled sharply, and was now rock hard underneath his jumpsuit. His mind was swimming again, and he felt dazed.  
He felt something else he'd never felt before. A longing. A yearning. For what?  
Release. To let go. To not be in control. The defining thought was new, like a newly formed crystal in his mind, but he could feel the longing for it was not.  
All of this racing through Amos' mind made time seem even more disconnected. He was very much present in his body, but it felt like he had fallen completely out of the reality of linear time.

Ilya's hands ran down Amos' chest, smearing sweat and grease down his abdomen. Amos took in the sight of the lean, half naked belter sitting on top of him. This cocky, confident, beautiful man. Steel grey eyes looking back at him, with a hunger in them. Amos felt the same hunger well up inside himself. He wanted this man to use him. To take control away from him.

Was this what trust felt like? It was impossible to tell. He had nothing to compare it to. Didn't trust require some kind of relationship? His thoughts blurred together and faded down below the surface again.

Standing up slowly, Ilya smiled that same sly smile, taking pleasure in having disarmed the bigger man so effectively. Although he was a little curious about why it had been so easy to do. It had been a bit of a gamble, for sure. He knew the big man's reputation for violence. But the impulse had been so strong he just had to go for it before the lust drove him crazy.  
Keeping his gaze on Amos, he pushed down his jumpsuit and stepped out of it.  
"I have to admit.." he said in a conspiratorial tone "that I might have planned for this ahead of time, before the old wiring decided to fuck it up for me.. and working in between the bulkheads with an ass full of lube was definitely a new experience."  
He chuckled, and crouched down over Amos again. "Now.. where were we?" he whispered and pushed down Amos' jumpsuit, Amos made no move to stop him. Their eyes locked on each other again, and Ilya stared in glee as the big mechanic bit his lower lip.  
"To hell with it.." Ilya thought and went in for another kiss. Amos grabbed Ilya's neck and kissed back hard. They groaned into each other.

Amos' mind was still swimming. Was this really happening? He was caught in the stream of a river, but felt no desire to try to swim towards the shore. He was being swept along, feeling... Everything. He imagined this was how being high felt like. It felt like his nervous system was on fire.

Ilya kneeled over Amos, arching his back a little as he positioned himself over Amos' dick, which he held in place with one strong hand.  
Glancing down at Amos, he searched the big man's face for any sign of reluctance but found none.  
He reached out with his other hand and gripped Amos by the throat again. The big man's eyes rolled back, and he let out a long, deep, groan.  
Ilya felt his own dick twitch with lust at the sounds Amos was making.  
Ilya could feel Amos' pulse under his fingers, it was beating hard and fast. There was no doubt the big man was very much into this.  
He lowered himself down and guided Amos' throbbing cock, slowly, inside his hole [??].  
They both moaned deeply.

Amos put an arm around Ilya and pulled him in a little closer, licking his salty skin. It tasted so good. Strong belter hands around his neck felt so good. It was all so -good-. It had never felt this good before.  
A stray thought floated at the edge of his consciousness. Only half formed. He had always just seen sex as the means to an end. Something to do to burn off enough energy to get a good night's sleep. Something to trade for goods and services. Something to scratch the itch. But this was different. He felt the lust with every fibre of his being. He wanted to devour this man. To be devoured by this man.

Ilya reveled in the hunger in the other man's eyes. He squeezed his hand a little tighter around Amos’ throat and felt the man shiver with pleasure underneath him. He bent forward again and licked the side of Amos’ face, and again the big mechanic trembled underneath him. It was intoxicating having such control over another person.  
Moving his hips slowly back and forth, he felt Amos’ dick fully inside him as his own rubbed up against Amos’ stomach.  
“I'm gonna come..” Amos whispered desperately.  
“Not yet.” Ilya hissed into his ear and bit his earlobe.  
He gently rose, and felt Amos slide out of him. The big man whimpered, wanting so badly to come, but made no move to do it himself.  
“Stand up.” Ilya said in a firm tone, and reached out a hand to help Amos to his feet.  
Amos’ legs were shaking. The whole world was swimming now. Fully immersed in the stream. Nothing else was real. They were the only two beings in the entire universe. There was no free will. No thinking. No past. No future. Only presence.  
His thoughts felt like echos in his mind.

Standing, facing each other, Ilya drew Amos in close for another kiss. Just as hungry as the first.  
He drew back a little, and said in a husky voice “You'll have to earn it.”, and grabbed Amos by the waist and spun him around.

Facing the wall, his hands on the cold steel of the bulkhead, he felt Ilya part his legs. His breath hitched and knew what was about to happen. Shouldn't this freak him out? His thoughts echoed in the back of his mind. Was context really the only thing to set this apart from how horrible a situation like this had been in his childhood? He expected to be revolted. To snap back into real time. To violently resist. And yet, he didn't. He wanted this. Wanted the belter inside him. Wanted to be used like a plaything. Wanted it so badly.  
His cock throbbed.  
“Please..” he whispered.  
“I want you inside me.”

Ilya grinned wide, and covered his fingers in lube, having stashed it in a pocket of his jumpsuit all day.  
“You will.” he said in a low, raspy voice into Amos’ ear.  
It sent shivers up Amos’ spine.

Ilya put a hand around Amos’ waist and drew him in close, licking the back of his neck, then pushed Amos up against the cold steel wall. He slid a slick finger into Amos, and heard Amos’ breath hitch.  
“Relax, big man..” he whispered into Amos’ ear, and ran his hand down his stomach. He playfully bit Amos’ neck while stroking his cock. When he felt Amos relax and start breathing deeper he slid another finger into him. Gently stretching him out.  
Amos was panting heavily and stretched his arms up along the bulkhead, over his head, as if he was trying to spread himself wider for Ilya.  
Ilya added another finger, and ran his other hand back up Amos’ stomach, and his chest. Digging his nails into Amos’ skin. Amos winced, and groaned with pleasure.  
“I was hoping you’d like it rough..” Ilya hissed, and grabbed Amos’ throat.

Amos’ fingers clawed at the cold steel wall. There was no conscious mind anymore. There was only the vortex of the stream. The constant physical sensations. Pain and pleasure intermingled. One as euphoric as the other. He wanted all of it, and more.

Ilya slid his fingers out of Amos and grabbed his own throbbing cock, smearing the remaining lube over it. Guiding the tip gently into Amos.  
“You're mine now.” he hissed as he pressed himself into Amos.  
Amos arched his back and moaned loudly. Almost screamed. It sounded both pained and ecstatic at the same time.  
Ilya, with a hand still on Amos’ throat, moved his hips back and forth, gentler now, after the initial thrust.

Amos had no coherent thoughts of any kind anymore. Even the echos at the back of his mind had been lost in the vortex of sensation. He wanted Ilya deeper inside him. He wanted him all the way inside him. He wanted to be torn apart. To be sucked into vortex like light into a black hole.  
“Harder.” he grunted through clenched teeth. “Harder!”

Ilya grinned, and was only happy to oblige. He thrust more forcefully into Amos, pushing them both up against the wall.  
With each thrust, Amos felt himself closer to the edge. His arms trembled and were devoid of strength. His breath hot against the metal wall. The pain was euphoric.  
“I want..” he panted. “I want you to come.” He groaned loudly, as Ilya sank into him. “Inside me.”  
Ilya grabbed Amos by the throat and squeezed. Hard.  
“Oh, I will.” he whispered, and his voice was deep and hoarse. Pushing Amos against the wall, he increased his tempo, and sank his teeth into Amos’ shoulder.

Amos could feel the teeth break the skin. It stung, but the pain was exactly what he had been missing all these years. The final piece of the puzzle, finally clicking into place.  
Ilya's thrusts, his teeth buried in Amos’ flesh, his deep panting, and the hand around his throat.

Ilya thrust hard into Amos, almost lifting him off the floor. He let go of Amos’ shoulder and threw his head back. With a loud moan, he came inside the big mechanic, and let out a long shuddering breath.  
Still inside Amos, he ran a hand up the mechanic’s back, and clasped it around his neck. He thrust a couple of more times and squeezed both hands tight around Amos’ throat.  
Amos felt his eyes roll back in his head, uttered what can only be described as a yelp, and came.

Ilya released his grip and ran his hands down Amos’ chest. Breathing heavily, they stood like that for a moment. Ilya rested his head against the back Amos’ neck, and gently slid out of him.

They both sank down to the floor, trembling. Laying on their crumpled jumpsuits, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Amos slept deeper than he had all his life. No dreams. No nightmares. Nothing.  
For once, the void of sleep was welcoming. The darkness was silent. Not even the long, veined fingers of childhood could reach him now. He floated deep beneath the surface of his memories gazing up at the abstract patterns they formed, like nebulae of violence and horror. They looked so harmless from this distance.


	3. if I had a heart I could love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amos actually interacts with other crewmembers

Amos awoke to Ilya stroking his face. Rough, calloused fingers on his skin. Tracing the line of his jaw.

“Hey..” Amos said in a sleepy voice. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Ilya chuckled a little. “You sleep like the dead, man.”

“I don't usually..” Amos started, but trailed off. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he looked around the engine room. _Had to get his bearings._ His instincts were dulled, but they were still there.

Ilya's hand ran across his chest, and the world started swimming again. It tugged at him. Down under the surface. Down to the calm nothingness. He lay back down and sighed contentedly.

Ilya leaned over and kissed him. Gently. Intimate this time. Amos caught himself smiling a little.

“That was.. intense. Yesterday.” he said, and he reached a hand up to touch Ilya's face.

“Yeah. I kinda got the impression there was more than just fucking going on there for a little while.”

“Yeah…” Amos muttered. “That hasn't really happened to me before..” he trailed off again.

Ilya could see the big mechanic growing uncomfortable and decided not to press the issue.

“I think maybe coffee and a shower is in order, don't you?” Ilya asked lightly and smiled. Amos relaxed again and nodded. He even smiled a little, clearly relieved to not have to talk about it any further.

 

They got up, both sore from sleeping on the crash couch mattress, and got into their jumpsuits. Ilya ran a hand over Amos’ neck, and Amos winced when his fingers touched the wound left by Ilya's teeth.

“I'd say I was sorry about that, but at the time you seemed to enjoy it” he said and gave Amos a playful smirk.

Amos blushed, and his ears turned red.

“Yeah..” he reached up and laid his hand on Ilyas. He didn't know what else to say, so he just squeezed the other man's hand gently and nodded.

“Coffee? Make me a cup while I clean this place up a bit?”

“You got it.” Ilya said and leaned in for a quick kiss.

Amos felt that same chemistry from the night before ignite inside him, grabbed Ilya's neck and kissed back, hungry.

“See you topside in a few.. chief.”

 

The machine shop looked trashed. All of yesterday's tools and equipment lay strewn about haphazardly. There were small pools of lube, and cum, and blood, by the wall where they're done it.  _Good thing nothing else went so shit, repair wise.._  Amos thought to himself and have a little chuckle. He stretched, before starting to pick up all the clutter, and the wound burned on his neck. What the hell had that been about anyway?

In the years since leaving earth, he'd had his bouts of self destructive phases, but never like this. Not that he was aware of anyway. He poked at the idea for a little bit. Like a kid poking the ground with a stick. He had no notion of what he was trying to accomplish, except just identifying the thoughts as they rose above the surface of his conscious mind. The whole concept of giving over control like that felt so foreign to him. And yet, he'd grabbed the opportunity so eagerly. As if it was something he'd wanted all his life.

It was starting to give him a headache. Coffee might be a good idea.

 

On exiting the machine shop he ran across Captain Tasha on her way up to ops from the cargo bay.

“There's the rest of our tag team of mechanics!” she said in a friendly tone and gave him a big grin. “We’re getting ready for the last leg in towards Europa. Shouldn't be more than a day or two now, unless something else blows on this bucket.” she said and gestured, overly dramatically, at the ship around them. “I swear, one day this rust bucket will tear straight down the middle.” she laughed, and Amos couldn't help but notice a twinge of sadness in her voice. She clearly loved this little ship, as shoddy as it was. It was something he admired about belters. They loved what they had. No matter how little or how crappy. It was theirs and they were a part of it. He wondered what that felt like. That sense of having a home, even if it was just a rusty old bucket of slapped together parts hurtling through the darkness of space like a speck of dust.

“Good to know cap.” he said, in what he hoped was a friendly tone.

She was used to Amos being stoic, and had gotten into the habit of mainly talking at him rather than with him. A few months on the same ship and that was just how their dynamic had developed. She knew he listened, he just didn't have as much to say for whatever reason. She could respect that.

 

“I was wondering how long it'd take for you two to hook up though.” she said and winked at him and pointed at his wounded neck.

Amos was stunned. Deer in the headlights, flashed in his mind. What does that even mean? He'd never seen a deer in his life.

“Uhm…” was all he could manage, and felt his ears become red again.

“Oh, don't look so shocked earther. The chemistry between you two has been practically vibrating through the whole ship the last couple of months.” Tasha said and waved a hand.

Amos still looked stunned.

“You really didn't know, did you?” she cocked her head to one side and looked bemused at him.

“I.. no.” Amos said.

“Oh, well. You boys have your fun, just don't forget to keep us in the sky in the meantime.” she said and smiled warmly at him.

“It was about time someone loosened you up.” she snickered and strode off to the deck ladder leading up to the bridge.

“And don't forget to clean that wound.” she said over her shoulder as she climbed up and disappeared.

Amos reached up to his neck and winced again. He really ought to get a shower and survey the damage.

 

* * *

 

 

The smell of warm coffee wafted down through the deck hatch as Amos climbed up to the galley. Laughter and friendly voices filled the room, as he walked over to the table where Ilya sat with a fresh cup of coffee ready for him. Elena was in the middle of telling a story of how she and Tasha had been running their first skiff in between Ganymede and one of the closest settled satellites around Jupiter. An even smaller ship than the Bucket. On loan from her uncle. It had hardly been worth the fuel to ferry small packages and food bars to the small settlements. Tasha stood leaning against the deck ladder, cradling a cup of coffee and gazing lovingly at her wife, telling the story with such animation. Amos could see the bond between them. It was hard to miss.

 

He cleared his throat, awkwardly, and sat down across from Ilya.

“I hope I'm not interrupting..” he mumbled.

“Not at all!” Elena said and smiled at him. “I was just telling Ilya here about how this outfit started out. I have all but given up trying to get any gossip out of this one.” she grinned and elbowed Ilya jokingly in the side. He grunted and feigned injury.

“Be careful Elena, I'm not as sturdy as our earther here.” he said and winked at Amos.

Amos chuckled, almost inaudibly and sighed of relief internally. This whole situation was so alien to him. These people were so.. nice? It felt weird. He had no protocols for this. How do you act? What do you say? When does the other shoe drop?

 

Ilya nudged the cup of coffee over towards him.

“Here. Fresh from old Sparky. Or as fresh as is possible with that contraption over there.” he laughed, and so did the others.

“The boys are keeping an eye out while we have lunch.” Tasha said from over by the ladder and nodded up toward the bridge.

“Oh, that should give me just enough time to make you guys some of my grandmother's famous Sсhi!” Elena beamed and got up to start making soup.

Tasha snickered behind her cup of coffee. “Oh, you're in for it now tumang [earther]. Soup from the old country no less. I think this means you're married.” she said and tried to, but failed, to stifle a laugh.

“We'll make a belter out of you yet beratna [brother].” Elena shot over her shoulder, and they all laughed.

 

The tone was so casual and light. Amos felt himself getting lost in it. They treated him like he'd been a part of their crew forever already. Their little cobbled together family in the outer edges of the dark void.

He hadn't even noticed himself reaching for Ilya's hand. Their fingers intertwined. Could this really be real? Was it possible for him to have found decent people, who didn't see him as a monster?

 _Be careful_ , he reminded himself.

 

The galley filled with the savoury smell of Elena's shchi. Tomatoes and cabbage with carrots and dill. Amos couldn't remember ever smelling something so wonderful.

“How did you manage to get all these things together way out here?” he asked in amazement.

“Oh, we have our ways.” Elena said alluringly, and shot Tasha a wink and a kiss.

“It's best not to ask too many questions.” Ilya said in a mock Russian accent and laughed.

“It's nothing, really.” Tasha said as she sat down at the table.

“Let's just say that Ganymede isn't the only place in the belt that has managed to start growing food. Which is why a lot of our current cargo is seeds and tech for smaller orbital mirrors.” she continued.

“Europa already have a settlement that grows food, but they're controlled by the UNN and don't take too kindly to smaller enclaves trying to become self sufficient. So while we are definitely going to Europa, we're not staying there. Only refueling before heading over to Amalthea. The new belter colony.”

“And it's not strictly legal, but the belt takes care of belters, sasa.” Elena added.

Amos nodded. There was a sense of community among the belters. Much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced down the well.

 

“Now, we eat.” Elena said and gave them each a bowl of soup.

It was warm and spicy, and tasted wonderful.

“Yam seng!” [cheers] Ilya said and lifted his bowl towards Elena. She smiled wide, and they all ate in relative silence.

 

Amos felt another new, foreign feeling for the first time. A sense of home. This was what home felt like. Decent people, enjoying good food and just being around each other.

 

* * *

 

 

Night time wasn't really a solid concept on a spaceship. Days and nights get fragmented into shifts to make sure someone's always up to monitor progress and flight paths. Tasha and Elena had the bridge, pulling longer shifts than any of the others. It was their usual pattern Amos had noticed. It was easier to work around internal clocks of 26hr days out here in space. There was no sun to tell you otherwise.

 

Ilya had gone up to his bunk a couple of hours before Amos, letting the big mechanic finish up some work on the navigation systems. Now that he'd finished he found himself standing outside the door to their shared room. He was nervous. He couldn't tell why. They had shared a room for four months already. This, however, was the first night since their sexscapade down in the engine room. That was probably why.

 

They hadn't talked about what happened, or if it was likely to happen again. Not that he had minded that particular fact. Talking **really** wasn't his strong suit. But he found himself apprehensive to enter the room now. What was Ilya's expectations? What was his own expectations? Did he have any? How do you even tell? He shook his head, sighed and rested a hand on the cool metal door.  _Why are you making such a big deal about this man?_ he thought to himself. This was all unfamiliar territory. “Fuck it.” he said under his breath and opened the door.

 

It was a small room. Barely a closet really. It had two bunks built into one wall, a futuristic bunk bed, and a small screen to simulate a viewport on the far wall. Ilya was on the bottom bunk, sleeping, facing away from Amos. His crumpled up jumpsuit lay on the floor. Amos stood in the dim light of the still half open door and just looked at Ilya for a few moments. His chest moving rhythmically up and down.

“Fuck it.” he said to himself again, opened his jumpsuit and shimmied out of it. _Here goes nothing_. he thought and climbed into the bottom bunk alongside Ilya.

It was a close fit, but there was just enough room for them both. Ilya stirred, but didn't wake. Amos put an arm around him and snuggled in close, resting his head against the back of Ilya's neck. His skin smelled musky and sweet. His heart beat so hard he was worried it would wake Ilya. Irrational, sure, but that didn't take away from the uncertainty arisen from the last few days. He found Ilya's hand and entwined their fingers. He really liked that, and he hadn't even known it existed as a thing he could do until earlier the same day. His heart rate slowed down a little. Then a little more. 

 

He wondered if he'd be able to sleep like this, but before he knew it he had drifted off listening to Ilya's deep breathing and feeling his heartbeat underneath their hands.


End file.
